


Eyes On Me

by FallacyFallacy



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Dancing, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Insecurity, M/M, Praise Kink, light exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 16:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19855624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallacyFallacy/pseuds/FallacyFallacy
Summary: While being so dutifully cared for by his boyfriend, Inigo looks for something he can do for Brady in return.





	Eyes On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [fe-fest](https://fe-fest.dreamwidth.org/) for the prompt 'Any M / M – Frotting. (No anal, please.)'

He _loves_ it when Brady watches him.

It’s not always quite as simple as that, of course. As Brady himself found out well before they started dating, he might… have a bit of a propensity towards sensitivity himself. But there’s a big difference between weaving charming words, or impressing with dazzling sword displays, and _dancing._ That’s special, and he knows it, and his own shyness only makes him more self-conscious until it loops back viciously and then-

...well. He’s very picky about who he lets see him dancing, is the point.

Which is something Brady does not seem to understand at _all._

“It just bugs me, y’know?” he said once, cheeks still flushed. “Any other time, you’re out there peacockin’ like you’ll die if ya ain’t got any eyes on ya.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie and say I don’t like to be praised,” Inigo had replied, feeling a little offended. “But, look. Weren’t _you_ the one complaining that all I care about is girls?”

Brady grunted. “’Zactly. If you showed off those kinda moves, ya’d probably be drowning in dames.”

But of course Brady thinks that. He thinks Inigo’s dancing is the most beautiful thing in the world.

It still makes him shiver to recall it. The way Brady’s eyes had beheld him, wide and roaming, like he couldn’t decide where was best to look. The pink in his cheeks, and the way he had licked his lips. He’d spluttered when Inigo called out to him, mumbling out excuses in an accent so thick Inigo had barely understood. But that felt good as well, seeing how flustered he had made him.

He told himself it made him feel powerful, and it did. But it had also been very, _very_ hot.

It hasn’t taken him long after to realise that if he reached out to him a little more often, Brady could be very attentive. He’s kind, and hard-working, and while his speech patterns remain as inexplicable as ever, he always seems to have a nice thing to say when Inigo needs it. He doesn’t make fun of his insecurities the way the others would – if anything, he seems to prefer it when Inigo lets his guard down, however briefly.

As ridiculous as Inigo had once found the idea, there really was something rather _nice_ about seeing such fervent emotion directed in your direction. He still doesn’t understand how a man could cry over a flower, but after years of pursuit, it’s an incredible relief to be on the receiving end, for once.

And it’s great! Sure, whatever kind of thing they have together is still incredibly new, but Brady is smiling a lot (and Inigo doesn’t find that even a little terrifying anymore), and Inigo finds his feet moving with more pep and confidence than they have in a long time. But as nice as it is to feel a little pampered, he does still have his pride as a man, after all. And a little part of him, deep down, still doesn’t really get why Brady likes _him_ so much.

He keeps an eye on him in battle, of course. But there’s nothing special about that - he’d been doing so even before they really became friends, and at the end of the day, they can’t disobey their tactician’s orders. Besides, despite what Cynthia is always jabbering on about, swooping in heroically doesn’t feel so great when Brady is _actually_ in danger, and with only a staff to defend himself with, that’s uncomfortably often.

So he tries to woo him the way he always did with girls, with flowery words and gifts and tea dates. But many of his lines feel kinda silly now that they are genuinely sort of basically dating, and the idea of granting Brady pretty jewellery is downright ridiculous, and they’re both still a bit self-conscious about being too open about all this for the time being.

In the end, if Inigo wants to give back, there’s really only one obvious option.

“A dance?” Brady’s eyes brighten immediately. “Heck yeah, just gimme the time an’ I’ll gather everyone.”

Inigo sighs. “No. No, it’s not that kind of – ugh.” Had he not made his intentions clear enough? He tries to put on the wide smirk he always used to try with the ladies.

“Whoa, are ya doin’ all right? Ya didn’t get hurt in that last battle, right? You gotta tell me about these things!”

“What?” Inigo says, bewildered. “No, nothing’s wrong!”

“But you’re grimacing, alluva sudden...”

Inigo resists the urge to bury his head in his hands. “No, seriously, it’s fine. It’s just… it’s...” Great, apparently even just talking about it is enough to fluster him. “Look, I was thinking of doing more of a...private thing.”

And honestly, he hadn’t even thought about it as a specifically sexual thing? Brady is a surprisingly good kisser but the one time Inigo tried to get a little more frisky he seemed pretty nervous. Which is fine – Inigo’s more than happy to take things a bit slower and let his boyfriend get used to the idea. (Not to mention the small fact that Inigo doesn’t exactly have any experience here either, and the longer they wait the more confident he is of being able to gloss over that.)

But Brady’s eyes go suddenly very dark, and Inigo can see his throat moving as he swallows.

“Ah, yeah,” Brady says, a little out of breath. “S-sounds good.”

Yep, Inigo thinks, finding it hard to breathe himself. Hot is _definitely_ the word for it.

The evenings are getting warm, so Inigo finds them a spot outside – luckily, the kind of distant but obstacle-free areas he needs for sword practice are also perfect dancing grounds, so it’s not hard to find one. The overly eager part of him kind of wants to just skip this part and go straight to the tent but any dancing he could do under those circumstances would basically just be foreplay anyway and the whole point of this was to _thank_ Brady, not push him.

“So I just, like, sit here?”

“Yeah.” Inigo breathes in and out, deeply.

It’s not the best dance he’ll ever do. He’s too distracted, and can’t really lose himself in it the same way. While the physical movements of dancing and swordfighting aren’t especially different, strength and stamina and flexibility alike, the headspace couldn’t be more different – when he’s fighting, he’s hyper-aware, taking in any information he can about his opponent’s movements and calculating tactics at split-second speed. When he’s dancing, he goes through practised moves and challenges his body, but it’s all just _him._

...or usually, anyway. It’s always more difficult dancing in front of someone, but today is going especially badly. He can’t stop wondering what Brady is thinking, and the brief glances he’s getting of him aren’t very helpful; he knows better than to mistake his glare for anger but he’s too nervous to tell if Brady’s actually enjoying it.

He tries as best he can, hoping that Brady’s lack of combat prowess also means he won’t notice Inigo’s more awkward landings or jerky movements. But as he goes on, his tension only rises. Yeah, Brady would never say anything deliberately mean to him, and he’s pretty sure he understands at least a little of what it means to him to be showing him this. But what if Inigo is too clumsy and awkward and it’s just painful to watch? Why did he ever think he’d be any better at impressing Brady than he ever was with girls?

At the last minute, he changes the plan a little. He doesn’t stop in place, but keeps moving, sliding for a moment on the leaf matter and only just barely holding onto his dignity by regaining his balance immediately after. Barely even thinking, he strides forward and drops onto Brady’s lap.

“So,” he says, infusing his voice with all the sultry confidence he can in the desperate hope that Brady will play along, “how was that?”

Brady blinks up at him, wide eyed.

Inigo’s still a little out of breath, and it takes a few moments for his vision to stop swimming. Once he can focus, Brady doesn’t quite look as delighted as Inigo had expected, and the thought immediately threatens the crumple Inigo’s shaking veneer of cool.

“You, ahh...” Brady stutters. And now that Inigo can look at him, his cheeks are very, very red. “I… Hell, I ain’t got the words...uh...”

Inigo relaxes, just a little, settling a little more onto Brady’s thighs. Which is when it swiftly becomes very clear that Brady had, in fact, enjoyed his dancing a _great_ deal.

“Damn it...” Brady mutters, ducking his head a little. “Uh… sorry, fer...”

Inigo breathes in and out deeply. He feels a little restless from the dancing, instincts telling him to keep moving. He’s warm and still prickling with awareness, feeling Brady’s strong thighs beneath his legs as clearly as he’d felt the ground a moment ago. And now he finds his very sweet, earnest boyfriend completely hard beneath him, all because of him.

His fingers curl at Brady’s shoulders, an urge to pull him forwards he can’t entirely halt.

“Sorry?” he repeats, and his breath simultaneously sounds too high and too breathy.

“Uh,” Brady says.

Inigo waits for some other reply, some kind of assent, even as it takes all his willpower not to either leap up or start moving. Maybe he should speak, but his mind has gone totally blank, and all he can do is maintain his position.

“M-maybe we should, uh...” Brady licks his lips and glances behind him; Inigo had almost forgotten they were still outside. But it’s getting dark and Inigo doesn’t really give a damn at this point. “I-I mean, if that’s cool with you...”

Inigo swallows. He moves both of his hands to Brady’s cheeks, guiding his head upwards so he can look at him. Brady still avoids his gaze, radiating discomfort.

“Tell me,” Inigo says, his voice unfamiliar. “What you thought.”

Brady bites his lip, but finally meets Inigo’s eyes. They’re so open, yearning and bright.

“You’re...” he says huskily. “ _Gorgeous._ ”

A tingle runs through Inigo. He smiles, without meaning to, and pulls Brady forwards to kiss him deeply. Brady groans immediately, strong arms wrapping tightly around his back, and Inigo falls even harder. Unable to hold back any longer, his hip stutters, jumping forwards so he can grind his crotch towards Brady’s. The contact has him gasping, squirming in his position to allow for better leverage.

“Fuck,” Brady mutters, and being held onto so tightly is almost too hot, but when Brady’s hand smooths down his back to flatten just above his ass and encourage him forwards, all complaints fly from Inigo’s head.

He thrusts again and again, grasping for as much friction as he can get through his pants. Brady raises one of his knees, planting his foot onto the ground, and Inigo settles into that gap, allowing gravity to bring him in.

“Keep talking,” Inigo mutters, lowering his head. He means to bite his neck but he can’t quite reach, but when he kisses the shell of Brady’s ear he lets out a very satisfying gasp.

“I – look, man...” Brady’s voice is slurring, but still his eyes stay locked on Inigo, watching with an intensity that sends Inigo’s blood even hotter as he grinds against him. “I can barely… think, here...”

“Just repeat it.”

Pleasure rises up in Inigo and he hastily tamps it down, suddenly clear that he is far too gone right now to leave anything undone. With shaking hands he unbuttons his trousers, rising from his position to kneel on the ground enough that Brady can hike up his robes.

“Wh-what?” Brady says, almost tearing his clothing as he rushes to pull it up.

“Say it again.” Inigo waits, hovering above him, even as his cock valiantly protests.

“Er...” Brady swallows, visibly frantic. “Yer… gorgeous?”

Inigo moans, falling onto him and bringing their dicks into direct contact at last. Brady clings to him again, nails digging almost painfully into his back even through his clothing. As his hand moves over them both, he noses at Brady’s cheek until his moves enough that he can kiss him. All technique defies him, swirling his tongue against Brady’s as forcefully as he had ground on him a moment earlier.

“Gorgeous,” Brady murmurs when Inigo pulls back for a moment, sending Inigo thrusting against him once more, so close to release.

“Y-yeah,” Inigo says, digging his hand into Brady’s hair. “That’s good...”

“Fuckin’ _beautiful._ ”

It’s too much, and Inigo gives in entirely, squeezing his thighs around Brady’s hip and ducking his head into his neck as he comes. It leaves him breathless, gripping onto his boyfriend for support even as he feels Brady do the same.

It takes several long moments for the high to recede, tired in more ways than one. He remembers almost distantly how Brady had shuddered alongside him and winces.

“Sorry for, uh, not waiting...” he mumbles, mouth still muffled by warm skin.

“What?” Brady’s voice is hoarse, but somehow also very soft. “Man, that don’t matter a thing.”

Inigo feels a hand drop onto his head and stroke gently at his hair. It makes him want to snuggle in and never leave, and that thought immediately makes him groan and pull away.

“Ugh, geez… how embarrassing...”

“What?”

Without Brady’s shoulder to shield him, he covers his face with his hand

“Just… all that making you praise me stuff… like, how insecure, right?” He chuckles humorlessly. “Especially when the whole point was to do something for you...”

Brady is quiet for a few moments. Inigo’s body feels limp, which really isn’t helping his bruised manhood, but he fumbles to right his trousers anyway.

“Inigo?”

Startled, he glances up without thinking.

“You...were really tryna do something for me…?”

Brady’s gaze is as intense as it was earlier, as longing, but the mood is entirely different. It sends a slight shock through Inigo – he’d thought he’d already seen him at his most loving.

“W-well, yeah.” Inigo shifts up and over to sit down next to Brady, though close enough to touch shoulders. “I mean, you’re always doing so many nice things for me, and the stuff I do never seem to work out, so...” His embarrassment overcomes him again and he covers his face once more. “Buuut as usual it ended up with you taking care of me...”

“...now, that’s horseplop.”

“Horse- what?”

Brady laughs, and Inigo doesn’t even have a split second to be offended before Brady is knocking his forehead into his, smiling broadly.

“If you wanna do somethin’ for me, I’m pleased as hell. But, man, you do stuff for me _all the time._ Yer always tryna use alla these pretty words when I can barely string together a coherent sentence, and youse always lookin’ out for me when ya can. Tell the truth, I always thought I was the one who couldn’t compete.”

“What? No way.”

“S’true. I mean…” Brady’s smile finally falters as he glances away for a moment. “Pretty guy like you with an ugly mug like me?”

“That is not true,” Inigo says emphatically. “You’re always saying things like that but-”

“I ain’t fishin’ for compliments, ‘s fine.” Brady waves his hand; his body turns more away from him but Inigo follows, forcing himself into Brady’s eyeline. “I know you’d prefer some kinda nice-lookin’ gal...”

“I wouldn’t. Really.” When Brady doesn’t react, Inigo grabs his hands. “I’m serious. I… yeah, I never would’ve expected things to end up this way. But that’s because younger me was an idiot! Hell, _present_ me is an idiot! You’re the kindest, most caring person I have ever met, and that really means a lot to me. I mean...” He swallows, but there’s no way Brady is gonna get this unless he lays it all out on the table. “I...wouldn’t have danced for you otherwise. That’s… really special and personal to me, you know? But I trusted you. _Trust_ you.”

“...yeah.” Brady’s hands turn over, holding onto Inigo’s in turn. “Yeah, you did.”

“And, well.” When it comes to times like these, though, it’s better to just play to character. “Seeing such a big, tough guy getting all flustered over me… well, it’s pretty hot.”

Brady laughs, and even if it’s objectively loud and rough and not cute at all, the sound genuinely makes Inigo’s insides melt into a pile of goo.

Yeah, he loves it when he has Brady looks at him – when he’s wearing a smile like that, most of all.


End file.
